Friday mornings

This semester, for the first time in a year and a half the little girls and I are home on our own each Friday morning while the "big kids" go off to Friday School, which is the weekly homeschool enrichment program at our church. To say I am missing seeing all of the amazing students that I've had the privilege of working with weekly is a huge understatement, but the fun the girls and I have at home-- just us-- is infinitely special, too!

What we do each week has varied a lot so far, but most Fridays include at least some of the following:

- taking walks or "exploring" in the yard
- me getting creamed by Aubrey in a board game of some variety
- doing lots of laundry and both girls thinking they are essential to the success of the task
- baking (bread, muffins, granola bars, cookies, etc) together
- reading lots of story books
- a couple random cleaning jobs that I just don't usually have time for otherwise 

Last week, of course, the major focus was Claire's day #2 of potty training. She has trained more easily than any of my others so although that was the focus, it certainly wasn't as demanding as it could have been. We still managed to do lots of other fun things together and make some headway around the house with "special" jobs, too.

I am loving these mornings with my little girls. What a blessing it has been to have these extra snippets of time to enjoy their personalities! God knows what is right for us in each season, and I must say that these days are most certainly right for us at this time!

 

Nearing the end

I'm 37 weeks pregnant now. Being so close to delivery has snuck up on me, overall, although the recently begun and [at least] once daily meltdowns-- whether over kids' attitudes or the state/condition of the house or not sleeping well or Daniel's evening schedule, etc-- are always a sure sign for me that we are officially in the end-game! I'd blame the meltdowns on the on-going renovations upstairs and how that seems to continually contribute to extra chaos in the home except that I've done this every time, regardless of whether or not we're finishing up any major projects. There's always something for these raging hormones to latch on to as a reason for tears, it seems!

At this point, Daniel very graciously hears me out, tells me how we're going to make sure that our home/family is more ordered by the time the baby arrives, and then works with me to tackle the various "stressers". He handles me like a champ-- almost like he's been here before or something. ;)

I don't have any (nor have I had any at any point since we broke through the roof last June) lofty ambitions about us having our new bedroom upstairs done by the time Paladin #6 makes his/her grand entrance, but I have for months hoped to be back to having two bathrooms by then. It may sound silly since none of my children are even teenagers, but 7 of us sharing one bathroom is busy. I can't remember the last time I took a shower without someone needing to use the bathroom in that short 5-minute span (come to think of it, if they were teenagers and not toddlers/preschoolers who need to go when they need to go, I probably could get 5 minutes of solitude!), but I'm looking forward to being able to lock the door and tell them to use the other bathroom!

Yesterday Daniel laid the floor tile, which was his first time working with tile and a wet saw. It won't be long before there's a beautiful, new, finished bathroom in my house as a very tangible expression of his love and care for me. He is amazing.

While he laid tile, the 3 big kids and I did some thorough house cleaning. Thanks to the hormones, I just couldn't take the dust bunnies or dirty freezer for one more minute, no matter how tired I feel thanks to my low iron. We've still got quite a ways to go before I'll feel like we've sufficiently restored order to all the various nooks and crannies of the house, but if we keep hitting it hard like we did yesterday and today, we should be there in no time. In fact, we might get there too soon and have to do a thorough repeat spring cleaning again before the baby arrives, knowing my history of going late!

I did have a prenatal appointment in Syracuse on Monday with a midwife at the regional perinatal center there. She was wonderful.

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. I literally had tears in my eyes at one point because I felt so at ease with her, and I've just not had that feeling with someone handling my prenatal care in a long time.

(Okay, okay... so maybe having tears in my eyes doesn't necessarily mean a whole lot these days, but still... she was so comforting in a light-hearted put-you-at-ease sort of way!)

I do have a difficult choice in front of me now: whether to go with the 2-1/2-hours-away OB practice that I trust to make wise, unselfish, conscientious choices on behalf of me and my baby or to go with the closer-to-home practice that doesn't post great numbers (1 VBAC/year or so and a higher-than-average c-section rate) and, though willing to work with me, would definitely require me to be more aggressive in order to achieve my intended VBAC. It's not an easy choice for me. Although my exhaustion this pregnancy is contributing greatly to me just feeling like I'm not up for strong-arming anyone into giving me what I want and that I'd rather drive a little further in order to have care that puts me completely at ease, I also worry a bit about how trying to deliver so far away would work.

In the meantime, the baby keeps growing and is healthy and active and content. He/she has no clue that I haven't found the car seat or washed a single stitch of baby clothing or trained Aubrey to stand nicely through Sunday morning worship or completed our targeted amount of school work or finished painting the new bedrooms or re-organized the kitchen cabinets or settled on a delivery plan or anything like that. I need to take my cues from him/her and realize that it's as simple as taking it all one day at a time!

 

I was just twenty years old when they first laid you on my chest. 8lbs 12oz, 21-1/2" long. Warm, crying, needing me, new.

So new.

Nothing about your arrival was quick. For hours upon hours I groaned and wept with pang after pang, trying not to watch the clock as hour after grueling hour and then day after grueling day went by,  but then-- suddenly-- you were here. With one push and in one great burst, sac still in tact until the midwife tore it open to pull you out, what seemed likely to never happen did happen: you were here.

Healthy, pink, soft, beautiful.

(Sometimes even still I think that is your way: slowly and at times painfully drawing things out until suddenly it all changes and I can hardly remember what the struggle was all about anyway.)

I reeled with the emotion of it all. My heart soared as a deep love and fierce protectiveness that I had never before known welled up inside of me, and simultaneously trembled with the knowledge that you were born broken and into a broken world and to broken parents.

Would I be as good to you as I wanted to be? Would I be able to take care of you, protect you, shield you, train you?

For weeks after you were born, I would hold you in the darkness, sitting in my rocking chair, tears streaming down my face.

How could I be enough?

I cried because I wanted to be. So badly I wanted to be!

I cried because I knew I couldn't be.

But He has been enough.

For you. For me.

For the broken parts of both of us that have brought us time and again to each other in repentance (and how thankful I have been over the years for your arms-- first round and dimpled and now long and lanky-- that have embraced me with free forgiveness whenever I have asked).

For the broken world that sometimes leaves us feeling bruised and battered.

For teaching us how to pick ourselves up, laugh much, share even more.

For learning how to let go and enjoy the gift of each day spent together.

You changed my life that day, Gabriel Sinclair Paladin. You are one of the best gifts I have ever received, far more precious and priceless than any thing I might ever acquire. You bear the image of the eternal God and even still, for a time anyway, you are mine and I am yours. What a miracle that is, and what a joy it is to celebrate your life and who you are to me, to Daddy, to our family.

Happy ninth Birthday to my growing man-child. I love you so very, very much.

 

Aubrey's heart

It dawned on me last night as I was conversing with some friends that I've never actually shared the details of Aubrey's heart abnormalities on here. It isn't that I don't like to talk about it-- on the contrary, every time I go through the defects she was born with, it reminds me of just how amazing it is that she is healthy and thriving-- but more that I've just never thought to. Well, here we go!

Within about a week or so of Aubrey's birth, we knew about 4 of the defects she has. It wasn't until she was almost 18 months old that we confirmed a suspected 5th defect via TEE. That was when one of Aubrey's cardiologists took the time to draw this very helpful [to us, anyway] picture contrasting a "normal" heart (on the left) with Aubrey's heart (on the right). It is, obviously, a somewhat crude drawing, but when I consider the handwriting of most doctors, I find it actually quite impressive that it's so clear and relatively easy to follow!

 click on the image to get a bigger view
 

I don't begin to fully understand all the defects, how they work together (because in some ways, certain problems actually are what allow her heart to work in its current state), or what the full implications are. I do know that Dr. Smith told us that day that if we were to walk up to most any resident physician in any hospital and begin telling them the laundry list of problems that Aubrey has, we would probably lose them at Defect #3 or so.

That's all I need to know to hug that girl a little closer, give thanks a little longer, and pray a little harder.

For those of you who know the jargon (or for those who would like to use Aubrey's heart as an interesting study in their homeschool *ahem, Lisa*!), here's the medical breakdown of Aubrey's heart abnormalities:

1. Atrial situs inversus
In other words: Aubrey's right atrium is where her left atrium ought to be, and vice versa. This is, however, not a "clean" switch: her pulmonary veins aren't all on one side of the heart like they should be, but are divided between both sides (see Defect #5).

2. Corrected transposition
Aubrey's left ventricle (the stronger one, which Dr. Smith tried to indicate with the extra squiggles to show more "muscle"!) is more associated with the pulmonary artery, but is connected to the RIGHT atrium instead of the left atrium in Aubrey's heart. Conversely, her right ventricle is more associated with the aorta, but is connected to the LEFT atrium. This means that the stronger ventricle, which normally pumps blood to the whole body via the aorta, is over-pumping blood to Aubrey's lungs while the weaker ventricle is trying (somewhat poorly) to oxygenate her whole body (thus her continually decreasing oxygen saturation level).

3. Ventricular septal defect (hole in heart)
In Aubrey's case, the hole in her heart is actually a good thing because it allows enough mixing of her blood that her right ventricle isn't completely stuck doing all the work that the left ventricle normally would do. From what I understand, there is such a flow of blood through that hole that it won't heal on its own-- and that's a good thing, as it's actually necessary to keep everything working decently enough to sustain her body.

4. Pulmonic stenosis
Again, forgive me for explaining so crudely something very complex (I am not a medical expert, that's for sure!), but if I understand properly, this is the narrowing of the pulmonic valve due to enlarged muscle. In Aubrey's situation, this narrowing was exactly the thing that allowed us to bring her home after 3 weeks in the NICU without surgery. Because her left (strong) ventricle is pumping blood to her lungs instead of her aorta, there was over-circulation taking place until the muscle built up and slowed down the flow of blood. You may recall that her respiratory rate was too high initially after birth; it slowed down on its own as the over-circulation slowed down thanks to this "thickening" of the pulmonic valve.

5. Partial anomalous pulmonary venous return
Instead of all the blood flowing from the pulmonary veins into left atrium, some of the blood flows from a few of the pulmonary veins into the right atrium, as well. (The image is small but if you look closely you can see that in the left-hand "normal" heart, there are 4 veins entering the left atrium; in the right-hand (Aubrey's) heart, there are two veins entering the "left" atrium, as well as two veins entering the "right" atrium.) This was the last defect to be confirmed and one that adds significantly to the complexity of correcting her heart, because trying to figure out how to get all the blood coming from her pulmonary veins into one atrium without overly intervening isn't simple.

All that to say, many of these problems on their own are extremely rare and complex (namely, Defects 1, 2, and 5). Combine them and you've got one unique little girl! She is a mystery to the medical world in many ways and, due to that, there is no "standard" approach to take. This is one of the many reasons I am so thankful that she has been so healthy, giving her cardiologists lots and lots of time to consider her and what will be best for her before needing to intervene.

Recently, I interacted with a girl who was born with a far less complicated heart abnormality. She is extremely small for her age and struggles with other health problems that are common side effects of heart disease. Sometimes I forget how amazing Aubrey's health is: she has been just about in the 50th percentile for growth ever since she was 2 years old. She's never had reflux or asthmatic attacks. She is developing exactly as any "normal" four-year-old would.

The truth is, it's a miracle Aubrey's alive.

Praise Jesus!

 

Of late

We have had to take life a little lot slower of late. Between my low iron levels that make for some interesting scenarios if I push myself too hard (passing out, heart palpitations, etc)-- and pushing too hard can be as simple as trying to vacuum the entire house in one fell swoop-- and a continuous cycle of sick kids, the home fires have been burn-ing! If I leave the house for something, Daniel's here with those who aren't healthy enough to be out and about; but usually, it's me here with at least a few of the five little people running fevers, nursing sore throats, coughing and wheezing, and/or blowing their noses. The family room couch has looked like this for about a month straight, except with rotating patients:

Jack and Claire are the ones I'm home from church with this week.
 

Overall, I've got pretty good patients. It is, of course, inevitable that the sick ones don't sleep soundly through the night, though. That adds to the exhaustion, to say the least, but we're managing. Overhauling expectations has helped with that: at this point, I'm really pleased with a day that includes school, basic housework/chores, and meal prep. These are the expectations I'm not accustomed to switching to until after the baby's born, but it is what it is.

And while I tend the sick crew, Daniel keeps chipping away upstairs. Hormones haven't quite kicked into the It-Has-To-Be-Done-NOW mode yet, but they are certainly adding to my eagerness to get at least the bathroom done. Seeing it slowly take shape as Daniel puts in a few hours here and a few hours there doesn't help my impatience. We're getting really, really, really close to finish work now!

Claire loves visiting Daddy to check on the work. One of the things finished on Friday was the framing in of this linen closet. Only a homemaker can appreciate my excitement about actually having a linen closet after six years of shoving extra bedsheets, towels, and pillows wherever I could find a spot to put them!
 

Plumbing lines run for the 2 sinks, along with the electrical boxes where 3 sconces will frame the two mirrors I have yet to find (anyone have a good lead on oval wood-frame mirrors? I never thought I'd have such difficulty locating inexpensive ones!).
 

Josh and Daniel totally humored me and installed this recessed light/bathroom fan unit that was MUCH more difficult to install than a traditional fan. I'm spoiled, I know.
 

The man on a mission. For me.
He's the best.
(And, if you didn't notice, we have a tub! UPSTAIRS!!!)

 
Also of late, I am continuing to beef up my diet (no pun intended) in an effort to quickly increase my iron levels. Animal protein is most quickly absorbed, so adding lots of that has been a major change to our normal way of eating, which is typically minimal meat/poultry and more rice/beans. With the clock ticking and the countdown ever nearing on this baby's arrival, I don't have time to mess around, so along with molasses in everything I can think of (cookies, bread, oatmeal, milk, granola, and more), I've dramatically increased my animal protein intake. Yogurt, eggs, chicken, beef, and pork are becoming a part of just about every meal I eat. I can't say that I love it, but when I think about how lousy I feel now and how hard it would be to take care of a newborn with this kind of exhaustion, I get motivated to take one more bite.

Today I'm going to try my hand at cooking liver and onions for the first time. I found what reviewers say is a palate-changing recipe. I've never actually eaten liver, but I have to admit that slicing it a bit ago just about turned me into a firm vegetarian. That stuff is weird! The liver is soaking in milk now, which according to much of what I've read is essential to taking the rubber sole taste out of it.

I'm a little afraid of food that has the potential to taste like a rubber sole.

I've got bread dough rising so that even if we all hate the liver, at least we'll still have something to eat for lunch.

(Come to think of it, maybe I'll try to get a batch of molasses cookies made, too. I'm seriously concerned!)

One thing's for sure: the anemia sure doesn't seem to be slowing down the growth of this unborn baby, although perhaps some doctors would see slower growth as a good thing in my case since I tend to give birth to 3-month-olds??? Claire puts her hand on my belly several times a day for the past few weeks and says, "Belly big, Mom. Baby big."

Thanks, hon, you're really boosting my self-esteem. I mean, is it not enough that I look as pale as a ghost, I've gained more weight than I did with either of the last two pregnancies (which, by the way, reinforces my "hunch" that we've got a boy on the way), and I generally feel less than human these days? No, on top of all that, I have to be regularly told how huge I am.

By a two-year-old!

33 weeks pregnant; I'm guessing that Baby is about 5lbs.

Still, I'm just thankful that all is going well for the most part. The baby seems healthy. I'm getting regular prenatal care. I've got what seems to be a good plan for delivery, and the back-up solution of heading to Syracuse (where they are all for my VBAC'ing) if all else fails. Daniel is unendingly patient with how slow I have to take things. The kids are stepping up and doing so much to help: Gabriel and Bronwyn regularly tuck the younger ones in on the nights Daniel's not home so that all I have to do is come up, pray with each of them, kiss them good-night, and then head down to my own bed-- not mention a whole host of other things they do to help all day long.

So of late, we're taking it slow, but I'm also feeling tremendously blessed. Not everyone has a support system right in their very own home like I do. God has been so, so, SO good to me!

 

Preparing

Ready or not, it suddenly hit us recently that there's a baby coming.

In, like, 2 months.

And we've done, like, not much to get ready.

When these sorts of thoughts hit (and they seem to hit harder and later with each pregnancy, probably because the days seem to go by faster and with less time to think ahead with each passing year!), I remember that we will do what we can do and also that, really, a baby slips into a home without needing a whole lot besides... well... me. And, honestly, what a privilege that is!

Still, there are some things that really need to be attended to in preparation for a baby, and even just for the sake of the whole family as we adjust to a new member.

I am no poster-child for baby preparation. Pottery Barn Kids will not be calling me to take pictures of our nursery (which is non-existent) and Parenting magazine will not be asking me to write an article on the Top 10 Ways To Get Ready For Baby. But despite what may look like less-than-American methods of preparing, we have begun preparing in our own way and making lists of things to prioritize in the coming weeks.

 

#1 Preparation: Get Prenatal Care & A Delivery Plan

I realized about 4 weeks ago that the perfect delivery plan probably wasn't going to fall into my lap out of nowhere and that I was going to find myself delivering in my living room and by myself by default if I didn't figure something out. I will confess that for a few days I very seriously entertained the idea of an unassisted childbirth, but I realized (with the help of my husband and some good friends) that having someone with some medical knowledge on hand (which both Daniel and I completely lack) was probably wise in my situation.

So, to make a long story filled with many phone calls and much frustration short:

I think I've found a doctor who is willing to give me a VBAC, and she's only an hour away! She does have a higher cesarean section rate than I would prefer, but she said the magic words that are really what I've been wanting to hear: "Of course I'll let you VBAC. As far as I'm concerned, now that you've had one successful VBAC, you don't even need special treatment. I also don't care if you swing from the chandeliers while laboring if that's what helps you, and I certainly would never make you deliver in the OR."

And she says willing to let me bring a doula of my choosing to help manage the birth, which was one of the significant losses (in my opinion) of delivering in the OR: not being able to have anyone but Daniel there to encourage me and share in the day. My mom hasn't been with me since the birth of Jackson, and I'm looking forward to having her with me again, to say the least.

I'll see this doctor again in a little less than 2 weeks and hopefully continue to find that she's as great as she initially seems.

 

#2 Preparation: Do Whatever It Takes To Increase My Iron

My 28-week bloodwork came back confirming my fears about my iron levels: my hemoglobin is down to 8.3 (yikes, for sure). For those who don't know numbers on these things, let's just say that that's lower than what many women have after they give birth. No wonder I've been SO tired!

I've made floradix my best friend these past months, so now it's just a matter of making sure that just about every calorie I take in is super high in iron and/or protein. While I don't relish the thought of eating blackstrap molasses by the tablespoon, I prefer that idea to one of postpartum hemorrhaging or even just a longer-than-usual recovery. I think I'll also have to learn how to cook liver, which is something I've never actually eaten, let alone prepared, before. Recipes involving high-iron foods are welcomed, but please remember that I'm super exhausted-- so they have to be easy!

 

 

#3 Preparation: Take Ground With Home Renovations

We are not "nursery people." My babies sleep in a sweet basket right in my room for the first while and that is how we like it. (Easy enough.) But, we still need a place to keep clothes and diapers and things like that, and our small bedroom simply doesn't have an inch to spare for such things.

Not a problem, since the guest room upstairs will double as the "baby's room" (aka "baby's storage") for a while, right?

Right.

Except that the room kinda needs some TLC.

 

Actually, considering the fact that it didn't even exist 6 months ago, it looks amazing. And truth be told, it looks even better right now than this picture (which is about a week old) shows, since it's now primed and the ceiling is painted, thanks to the Lafaver men and their speedy paint sprayer.

All I need to do is muster up enough energy to get the walls painted and then, regardless of no flooring and no trim and no closet doors, I will put the baby's dresser right in that little nook and then!-- then I will have a place to put the things I have recently begun collecting for the baby, which will mean that the basket-bed will no longer be a storage place and may actually be available for the baby to sleep in!

 

#4 Preparation: Choose Baby Names

I have to admit, we really haven't gotten very far with this one. I have a few names I kind of like, but I'm not sure I love any of them. Daniel hasn't really given much input yet. He has pretty good excuses these days, seeing as he's been using every spare minute to do things that will restore greater peace and functionality to our home-- things like running plumbing (alongside Megan, who is awesome and got the job done so fast!) in the future upstairs bathroom.

 

I'm beyond glad we have plumbing, but I also realize that if this child is nameless for the entirety of his/her life, he/she won't care a bit about our thoroughness with the upstairs bathroom remodel, so the goal is to make some progress in this department sooner rather than later.

Seeing as how it takes me longer than 2 months to pick out what kind of light fixture I want for the upstairs landing, I better get thinking on that, huh?

 

#5 Preparation: Enjoy This Season

Between exhaustion and on-going projects, it can be easy to lose sight of how special each and every day is, which is why I am so very thankful for the Holy Spirit's clear reminders of late to treasure each moment. This day is unique and never to be repeated. Wow! I don't want to get so antsy in my own "nesting" urges, or so caught up in what needs to be done, or so anxious to just plain old feel better, that I lose sight of the most important thing I can be doing: loving where He's put me and who He's put me with.

 

We're Gonna Have A Birthday!

Today is Jackson's sixth birthday.

Six!

He was born on a very cold day right on the heels of an unusually warm spell. I so clearly remember stopping at the grocery store on our way home from the hospital about 24 hours after his arrival (which is still a bizarrely hilarious memory in and of itself: my horribly anemic self, thanks to some pretty bad hemorrhaging following his birth, hanging onto the shopping cart for support as I shuffled along to pick up the essentials we needed, like bread and butter and milk, and daring not remove the blanket from completely over Jackson, who was nestled in his car seat, because I felt so terrible about being so poorly prepared for his birth that I had wound up bringing my BRAND NEW BABY into a public, germ-infested place like P&C!) and how bright the sun was and how crunchy the snow felt and how quickly our breath was taken away from the sheer cold of the day!

Papa with a couple-hours-old Jackson
 

Six is a big deal around our house. The only clearly spelled tradition we have for birthdays is that we don't do big parties-- except for the sixth one. For six, although it's still not big by most American standards, we pull out all the stops!

The birthday boy/girl gets to pick a birthday theme. (Jack picked dinosaurs.)

The guest list is altered from strictly family and perhaps a friend or two to being able to fill up the dining room table with guests all of their own choosing. (Jackson has invited his siblings, two uncles, Papa, a cousin, and some friends from church and Friday School.)

We do games with prizes. (Pin The Tooth On The Dino, Dino May I?, and a balloon popping contest.)

There are party favors that coordinate with the theme. (Dinosaur crayons and erasers, dinosaur foam masks, and candy.)

And every time we do the six-year-old party, my breath catches in my throat (much like it does when I step outside and [re]discover just what -10 degrees feels like): How did we get here already?

Jackson, this fall.
 

I have loved the little boy Jackson so much. His red hair, freckled complexion, clear gray eyes, and winsome smile are second to none. His love for affection, his helpfulness, his quiet-but-rough-and-tumble way melts us all. His soft cheeks that have been oh-so-slow to lose their baby feel, his giddy laugh, his easy-going nature-- these things I want to remember always.

I've been here before so I know that, really, the future is not something to shy away from, but this Mama heart wishes I could keep maybe just this one small for always.

Last night as I tuck him into bed, his eyes bright with excitement after watching his first live college hockey game and having been gifted a hockey stick from one of the goalies whose heart he had won, I ask him if he'll please just not turn six after all; if he'll stay five and be my boy forever?

"I can't help it, Mom, I was made to grow."

And so he was.

 

With that, what more is there to say except:

Happy Birthday, Jackson Edward! We love you so much and we really do have ever so much excitement for all that God has for you in the days head. Grow, little boy, into a man who loves Jesus and serves only Him. We are beyond thankful for you and the destiny that is wrapped up inside of you!